The Appetite of the Rich
by greyeyes7
Summary: Violet Harmon doesn't want to live with her parents anymore, so she finds a new place to live in a famous LA hotel, owned by none other than James Patrick March.
1. Chapter 1: A Glamorous New Home

_Disclaimer: I don't own American Horror Story or any AHS Characters._

 _Warning: This, again, will most likely start as a T but later will become an M rated story._

 _Let me know what you think-this is an odd pairing and I'm not sure if any of you will enjoy it, but I think it could be very interesting...please R &R!_

 _~GE7_

 **Chapter One: A Glamorous New Home**

The move from Boston was annoying to her. It wasn't that she was upset that she had to move away from her friends (because if we're being honest, she had very few to begin with), it was that she knew it wouldn't help things. Her dad would still be a cheating asshole and her mom would still forgive him and keep them all trapped in this endless cycle of misery. Violet wasn't going to have any of it. She refused to live in a home with her pregnant mother and her cheating dad. She wouldn't subject herself to that sort of torture.

Now Violet wasn't dumb enough to run away at 17, she knew what would happen. The cops would get involved and there would be some crazy business about her being a minor. So Violet did what she did best—she made a plan that was foolproof. Insisting that her parents let her finish the semester before they moved, this guaranteed Violet only a few days in LA with her parents before she turned 18.

Cramped in the backseat of the car, surrounded with luggage, Violet thought about her new life in LA. She had a lot of money saved up from working at a local shop, she had some from when her dad tried to bribe her to like him, and the rest was from a distant aunt who had passed down a small fortune to the girl, as Violet's rebellious spirit reminded the woman of herself as a youngster. And Violet only ever used money to buy cigarettes, so it wasn't like she would be out in the first week. But still, Violet wanted to conserve her money, so she researched LA and found a hotel that had a good rate but wasn't too sketchy, and it had this old-fashioned style that she adored. So she planned to stay there for her last semester in high school.

They finally arrived at their new home, and Violet quickly ran to the room that would be hers for the next week, carefully pushing her suitcases into the closet, not intending to unpack them.

* * *

Her exit would be quick and painless. The sun was not even up yet when Violet's taxi rolled up to the curbside in front of the old brick house. She shuffled down the stairs and shoved her belongings into the trunk. Violet hopped in the backseat and fed the driver the address, giving one last look to her parents' home, hoping that they wouldn't find her note (which explained her departure) until later that day.

Turning towards the road ahead, she watched as they left the residential area of Los Angeles, and the buildings turned to tower over her, the large metal structures looking down on her as new prey. She smiled at this new life. While she would miss the seasonal changes in Boston, LA couldn't be that bad.

The cab came to a halt and she flew out the door, grabbing her suitcases from the trunk. The driver pulled his yellow car away as the young girl looked straight up at the large sign which read "Hotel Cortez." Looking back down, she entered the lobby of her new home, admiring the rich colors of the grand hotel as she stepped in. Locating the front desk, she dragged her luggage to the counter before placing it on the beautiful carpet. She stood back to full attention and suddenly, there was a woman there. She hadn't been there the moment before, but she was there now. Violet wrote it off as her tiredness making her slow on the uptake that morning.

She smiled at the woman before saying, "I would like a room, please."

The woman's short, grey hair jumped as she turned towards the keys that were sitting in little boxes behind her. "How long do you plan to stay, Miss?"

"I plan to live here," Violet responded. She watched as the woman appeared to tense up at her words, her fingers running across the keys until her hand flew to one, as if being drawn like a magnet.

The woman flipped around, thrusting a key with a dangling chain that read "63" towards the new resident of the hotel. "I hope you find this room to your liking. Would you like help bringing your things to your room?"

"No, I will be fine. Now how much is—"

"Let us not worry about money now," the old woman said, giving an eerie smile. "Why don't you go on up and get some sleep? It looks like you need it."

Too tired to argue, Violet pulled the key from the woman's hands and picked up her bags, beginning the trek up the grand staircase of the hotel. She reached the top and walked past a bar, which was empty at this hour, all except for a once-beautiful woman who now looked tired and like she hadn't used conditioner in twenty years.

Violet continued on to her room, getting lost as she wandered the hallways. She was exhausted, regretting staying up the entire night, though she knew there was nothing she could do as she hadn't been able to fall asleep from excitement and anxiety. She kept looking back and forth between the walls of the hallway, dying to find her room, when she heard a voice from behind her, "I do believe you're going the wrong way, Miss."

She flipped around, startled by the deep voice that had come out of nowhere. When she did so, she came face to face with a gorgeous, dark haired man in a perfect suit. He was tall and pale, his face thin and regal, and his aura was dark and intriguing. Violet, frozen with shock, didn't say a word, which prompted the man to go on, "This hallway is a dead end. Sixty-three is in the opposite direction. Here, let me show you the way." He pulled both bags from Violet's hands, putting them in his left, while his right arm flew out, begging for Violet to grab on.

Violet was smart, this you already know. She wasn't the type of girl that let random men lead her places where she might get hurt. But the thing about Violet was that she was the type of girl who was up for adventure. And this man was certainly an adventure.

She wrapped hand around his arm, watching a bizarre smile come to his face as he led her to room number 63. He grabbed the key for her and opened the door, allowing her to enter as he placed her luggage on the luggage racks in the corner of her room.

The 18 year old fell onto the bed in exhaustion, amazed at what she had accomplished in the first few hours of her birthday. She sighed, finally free of the hellhole that was her miserable life at home, and embraced the glamorous life of living on her own.

Nearly forgetting that the mysterious man was standing there, she flinched when he asked, "What is your name, Miss?"

"Violet. I'm Violet Harmon."

"Miss Harmon, are you quite old enough to be living in a hotel alone?"

"Aren't you a bit young to be speaking with that accent?" The man smiled at her wit, giving a slight bow before turning to leave the room.


	2. Chapter 2: A Day on the Town

_I'm glad you're interested so far. I hope you enjoy this installment. Please R &R!_

 **Chapter Two: A Day on the Town**

It was a new day. Well it was the same day, but it felt very new. After a few hours of sleep and a nice shower, Violet felt completely invigorated, her world looking completely different than it had twenty-four hours prior, when she woke to the sound of her parents fighting.

No, this place was new and wonderful. Violet looked in the mirror, noting her fresh and happy appearance. She pulled the sleeves of her dress down to shield the red marks that marred her pale arms, and she placed her favorite black hat on her head. She stepped out into the hallway, noticing a man pushing a key into the lock of the door next to her. It was the man who had walked her to her room just hours before. He had on a new suit, this one a deep blue with a clean, white shirt underneath, and a red ascot. His hair was nicely combed and the flower on his lapel was beautiful.

He felt her eyes on him and said, "Good morning, Miss Harmon. How did you sleep?"

"Quite well," she said.

"Now what is a girl as beautiful and young as you to do on such a fine day?" he asked, giving her his full attention.

"I have not decided yet. It was fairly recent that I made my move to Los Angeles, so I figured I would explore the city today."

A smirk crept onto the man's face, "Well, now. We cannot have you running around the city alone. How about I join you? I can make an excellent guide."

Violet regarded the man, noting his style which was definitely more in league with the hotel than the rest of the outside world, and paying close attention to his dark eyes, which were presently filled with amusement and interest. But our Violet loved adventure, so of course she said, "I would very much enjoy that if you tell me who you are."

The man smiled, something that should have been relieving but only caused Violet to sense something even more sinister about him. He walked towards the young girl, grabbed her hand, laid a kiss upon her knuckle and said, "My dear, I am James Patrick March. I am the owner of this hotel."

Violet was surprised for only a moment, attributing his large wealth at such a young age to a death in his family. She wondered just how old he was, she had a hard time guessing because of the way he dressed and acted. She watched as he turned back towards the sixty-fourth room, opened it, and held his hand towards the inside, gesturing for Violet to enter.

Very weary of this interesting man, Violet said, "Why?"

Shocked by her sass, James answered, "Well I wanted to freshen up before we left, I cannot be seen walking through down looking like this." He gestured to the pinstriped suit he adorned. "I don't go out much, but when I do, people take notice."

"I wonder why," Violet muttered under her breath.

"Watch your tongue, girl." the man said, his eyes widening in a way that was meant to bring fear, but only put forth curiosity in Violet's mind. "Now, why don't you put on something nice, hm?" Seeing the look that Violet shot him, he said, "You cannot possibly want to go out looking like this." He turned down the long, empty hallway and shouted, "Miss Evers," prompting a busty, redheaded woman to come flying down the hall. When she reached the pair she made for a slight curtsy before James said, "Fetch the lady a nice outfit for our time out today. And please do get her a pair of fresh linens for her room." The woman went down the hall as quickly as she came, and was gone within a matter of seconds.

Skeptically, Violet gave James a once-over. He was weird. Beyond weird, actually, he was bizarre. I mean, who in the 21st century believes he needs to "freshen up" as he is wearing a perfectly tailored pinstriped suit and his black hair is perfectly combed? It was probably the strangest thing Violet had encountered in a long time. And she loved it.

She wanted to know more about this man, and he clearly wanted something from her, but she didn't know what yet. ' _It cannot be sex, he's rich and young and attractive, he can have whomever he wants_ ,' she rationalized. ' _But then what is it? It cannot possibly be simply a companion, he can travel the town with anyone. So why does he want to know me_?'

As if reading her mind, James answered, "I think you will come to find that many things here are not as they seem. And that the appetites of the rich are difficult to satisfy." He entered the room, and knowing that Violet wouldn't follow him, he closed the door behind him.

Shaking her head, Violet tried to recap what had just happened, what he had just said, and what it meant, but she came up flat. It made no sense. She made to turn back towards her room when she turned directly into Miss Evers, who was holding out a pile of clothes for her.

Violet grabbed them from the woman's hands and pushed her way back into room 63, making to change into the black, pearl-studded dress that the maid had handed her. But then she shook her head, realizing it would be ridiculous to succumb to this man's bizarre 1920s fetish, and stepped back into the hallway, wearing the same dark outfit that she had worn when she originally left the room that day.

James emerged from his room moments later, his suit dark and his hair combed slightly different. He breathed in a breath of musty hotel air before turning to his new companion, causing his face to fall instantly. It then morphed to one of borderline anger as he called out again, "Miss Evers!" The woman came quickly down the hallway, again shocking Violet with her ability to move at such speeds towards her boss. James looked at the woman, pointedly asking, "Did you not bring the lady a fresh set of clothing?"

"I, I did, yes."

"It wasn't her fault," Violet said. "I just didn't feel like wearing it. We're just walking around, and I want to wear this."

"Leave us," James said to Miss Evers, his eyes never leaving the thin and stubborn creature in front of him. He held out his arm to her as he had the night before, but this time, Violet didn't take it. She walked straight past James and down the hallway.

The pair walked past the bar, causing the bartender to put down her book and take her reading glasses off. They went down the stairs, causing the grey haired woman to nod. She looked slightly shocked as well, yet she had the ghost of a smile on her face. It was clear that James was telling the truth—he didn't go out that often. And it was also clear to Violet that the staff of the hotel were happy about it. Was it that they were happy to have time with him away? Or were they happy _for_ him?

At any rate, Violet was excited. It was her first day as a free woman. She was finally 18, finally an adult. She no longer had to listen to her parents fight, and she no longer had to suffer through their toxic relationship. Did that mean she would stop cutting? She wasn't sure yet, but she had a good feeling about her new life in the wildly creepy Hotel Cortez.

She led the way as James walked a step behind her, his steps smooth, and his face poised. He had this suave attitude, as if he knew who he was and he knew no one could bring him down, except maybe God himself.

James didn't say much, it was almost as he got enjoyment by seeing Violet run around the city. She thought it was an interesting place, a wonderful new place to explore. But after awhile, it was annoying that James was saying nothing, so Violet asked, "How did you make your money?"

The rich man sighed, thinking back to his youth. "Well as a young boy, I was quite poor. My family was struggling for money, and my parents were farmers, making not much more than what could keep us alive. So I decided that enough was enough and that I wanted to be a god. So I did what I could to work in real estate, and I made my fortune at a young age. So I built the Hotel Cortez, and I designed it to be the best hotel in business."

"Wait…you built the hotel? It's like…a hundred years old."

"Not all things are the age that they seem, Miss Harmon."

"You can call me Violet, I'm no maid."

"Oh, I did not mean that disrespectfully, my dear. I call you Miss out of respect. Your first name is for your husband only."

"How long have you been stuck in that hotel?" Violet laughed.

"Long enough. Maybe it is time to come out a bit more." Violet pulled out a cigarette and grabbed for the lighter that was in one of her many pockets when James asked, "You enjoy menthols? You do not seem the type."

"You want a smoke?" Violet offered one to the hotel owner.

He plucked the rolled tobacco from the cardboard box in her hand and said, "These are very small."

She gave him a look, "They're 100s. They're a pretty normal size." He didn't say anything, instead allowing her to light the end as he took a drag. "I think I'm going to buy more, my first legal purchase—pretty exciting, don't you think?" she said sarcastically.

"How do you mean, your first legal purchase?"

"Well I'm eighteen now."

"Now, as opposed to…"

"Yesterday, when I was seventeen."

His eyes widened, "Today is your birthday?" She nodded but brushed it off, as she never liked birthdays. "Well then, we must throw a party."

* * *

 _I hope you all noticed that James can go outside of the hotel... try to guess what this means_

 _~GE7_


	3. Chapter 3: Onward

_Thank you so much to everyone that has reviewed. Now, onward with the story..._

 **Chapter Three: Onward**

Violet closed her door, clinging to it as it shut. She let her body slide to the floor, oddly exhausted by the day that she just had. It wasn't that she and James had gone far or spent a lot of time out, it was just that it tired her to try to figure him out. But at the same time, she liked this challenge. Honestly, she was worried her life would become mundane without the constant bickering of her parents to spectate, but this hotel, this man, they promised her a future of excitement, at least for the next few months that she planned to live there.

She stood up and walked into the bathroom, looking into the mirror. Unsurprisingly, she appeared the same as she always did—little makeup, straight hair, porcelain complexion, grey bags under her dark eyes, the dark color of her dress contrasting with her lighter hair and skin tone. Sighing, she silently hoped that James was joking about the party, but she knew that he wasn't.

And it wasn't the fact that he was planning a party that pissed her off, it was parties in general—birthdays in general. Why celebrate something that everyone has, every year? You aren't accomplishing anything, and to the people who would retort with "you're accomplishing another year of life," Violet would give a large middle finger to.

Birthdays were ridiculous to celebrate, but parties…oh, parties. Violet was a fan of the occasional get-together with close friends for purposes of drinking, but legitimate parties with hordes of people that the host never seems to know and that are all jam-packed into one tiny room, half passed out and the other half naked, Violet didn't like those so much.

But something told her this wasn't going to be one of those parties. And while relief flooded Violet at the thought that she wasn't going to have to take care of some random blond girl puking over a couch, it also caused her worry. What _was_ this party going to be like? James was certainly extravagant, and most definitely peculiar, what with his 20s flare and Brahmin accent.

Which led Violet to her next concern: what was she to wear? Violet liked picking out clothes, and she claimed to have a good sense of style, which she would define as eclectic. But eclectic rarely made sense at formal events, which Violet assumed this party to be. Not that it mattered, though, because unsurprisingly, Violet chose to wear a flower print dress and a cardigan that she very much liked. It was her party and she was going to wear what she wanted.

Unsure of what time this last-minute party was going to start at, Violet went towards the bar out of both boredom and the desire to meet the bartender. She was tall and bald, wearing an extravagant silk dress. The woman was mixing a drink, her back facing Violet, but she must have sensed Violet's presence, not turning around as she said, "Aren't you a bit young to drink?"

Sitting down anyways, Violet said to the woman, "What's your best drink?"

The woman turned around, exposing her full self to the young girl. Her blue lids matched the expensive fabric of her dress, which hugged her tightly around the waist. Her nails were long, and Violet imagined they would be hard to deal with. But the most intriguing part of the bartender was the haunting look on her face, as if she knew more than you ever could, and she knew you wouldn't believe her if she told you.

Pulling out a Martini glass, the woman said nothing. Violet spoke up, "Do you have anything stronger?"

Freezing, the woman looked at Violet as if the girl was brain dead. "Honey, these are no ordinary martinis." She continued to make the drink and poured it into the cone-shaped glass, glancing up at Violet to ask, "So what are you drinking for?"

"Liberation," Violet responded very matter-of-factly.

"Ah," the woman said, her eyebrows shooting up in understanding. "Well then I'll keep these coming."

Violet downed the drink, which true to the bartender's word, was amazing. She looked up at the woman who was already pouring more into her glass and asked, "How long have you worked here?"

"Quite some time," the woman said.

"So it's safe to assume you've met the owner?"

"Mr. March? I did notice the two of you walking out of here together." She paused and leaned over the counter a bit, placing her elbows down on the countertop, and whispered, "He hasn't left this hotel in years."

Eyebrows knitting together, Violet asked, "Why not?"

But there was suddenly a loud and charming voice from behind Violet which said, "Ah, Miss Taylor, I see you have acquainted yourself with the lovely Miss Harmon. And you have made her a nice sidecar? How about we get two Barbary Coasts? We must get her in the mood for her party!"

Jumping around, her blue dress flying behind her, the bartender grabbed for the gin. Violet turned on her barstool, coming to face James, who was wearing a different suit (yet again), and retaining a smirk on his face. "What's a sidecar?" she asked.

"A sidecar is what you were just drinking. What did you think that was, my dear?"

"A martini, what else would one serve in a martini glass?" As Violet quipped back to the hotel owner, James's eyes connected with Liz's, whose perfectly filled eyebrows raised.

The owner's eyes returned to the young girl he had become intrigued with that day, and his smirk grew larger as he took in her sarcasm, responding in the same tone she had just used, "Well this is an old hotel. And in old hotels, we serve what you would consider to be old-fashioned drinks. Now a sidecar was a classic cocktail from the good old days, and they were served in martini glasses. In fact, if I remember correctly, the sidecar was popular long before the martini. So I do believe that you are mistaken, and that you were expecting a martini in a sidecar glass."

Violet's face remained emotionless, not willing to let James know that she knew he was right. Liz watched from behind the couple, a smile creeping onto her face. She knew this new girl was perfect for James, intelligent enough to match his mind, and able to hold her emotions back, which would be helpful for when James inevitably lost his temper. She was good, and everyone in the hotel knew it. Or almost everyone, but that's a story for a later time.

Holding James's dark gaze, Violet tilted her chin up, a small smile curving at the end of her lips. James liked her flare, and his lips curved as well, blossoming into the closest to a smile she had ever seen on his face. He purred, "As much as I enjoy this, you will be late to the party if we continue, Miss."

"You can't be late to your own party," Violet quipped, popping up from her stool, leaving the drink Liz had made behind her. She strutted towards the hallway containing their rooms, stopping to turn back at the pair still at the bar. "Are you coming? I don't know where this party is." James slowly began to walk towards her, stopping at her side. Violet looked over to the woman behind the counter and said, "I'll be back, Miss Taylor."

"It's Liz, honey," the bartender called to her new friend.

Violet then turned her attention back to the dark figure next to her, whose arm flew out for her to catch. She unsurprisingly declined it, to which James said, "How will you ever make it to the party without me on your arm to guide your way?"

Knowing he wasn't going to back down, Violet begrudgingly lifted her hand towards his elbow. He smiled, sensing the pure rebellion dying to come forth from her. He turned back towards the long corridor and said a single word. "Onward."

* * *

 _Just a fun little chapter, but I hope you all notice that Liz is here, which I hope makes you ask about who else might be here too..._

 _Next chapter I'll get into a bit more of the history of some of our favorite characters!_

 _And if you get the chance, go read_ Stephycats7785 _'s story "Imperfection" and_ ghm _'s story "Born To Die." They're both absolutely brilliant writers and I guarantee you'll love their stories!_


	4. Chapter 4: Meeting the Neighbors

_I AM SO SORRY FOR MY_ _HIATUS_

 _It was partially due to me being busy, partially due to me not being sure how I wanted this to go, and partially due to me wanting to finish the season just to make sure I didn't mess up an important part in any of the characters' roles._

 _I will be back to writing now! I have a pretty good idea of where I want this story to go, so bear with me and let me know what you think!_

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Meeting the Neighbors**

They walked down the long, dark hallway, the red carpet's pattern swirling under their feet, the yellow lights flickering, and the hall stretching, seemingly continuing forever. The hotel became blacker and blacker as they swaggered on, forcing Violet to rely on James's swift arm to guide her, something she did not very much enjoy.

James glanced down at the black-clad beauty on his arm. After feeling her cling to his arm more as they walked, he had hoped to see some sort of fear in her eyes, but he came up empty handed. It appeared that she only held him as a guide in the darkness, not because she was frightened. It seemed that it was impossible for this girl to be scared at all—and James ate it right up.

"Please enlighten me," she spoke up, "Who is attending my party? Surely no one that I know, which doesn't make it much of a party, if you ask me."

"Dear, parties are made to socialize people. If you were to know everyone here, it would be quite boring, wouldn't you agree?" he paused as they reached the end of the hallway, turning towards her as he pulled a key from one of his many pockets. "Besides, I didn't ask you."

He pushed open the gold-encrusted door, opening Violet to a bizarre scene. There weren't a lot of people present, but at first glance, the room appeared to be filled. But the strange part was not the number of people, but the difference in them.

When looking around the room and surveying them as a whole, one might note that there were many people there, all happy and having a great time. But when you looked at each person individually, you could see that they were all dressed for different eras. There was one woman in a feathered dress, adorned by pearls. Another woman had on a slick jacket, but the shoulders looked like the jacket was meant for a man. There was a man in a very ugly patterned shirt, and another whose bright vest clashed with the shirt he wore underneath. Who were these people and where were they from?

The answer to that question would not be answered so easily, as before Violet could even ask it, James had ushered her over to a large table piled high with food. After James left to settle an issue with the wait staff, Violet peered over the selection. Reaching for a small hors d'oeuvre, she accidentally bumped into a tall man who she hadn't noticed the moment before.

She looked up at him and took in his perfectly combed hair, his strong cheekbones, and his piercing eyes. He flashed a dangerous smile and offered his hand, "You must be the birthday girl. I'm Donovan."

"Do you live here?" she asked, shaking his hand.

"Yes, I do. And I hear you live here too, now."

"I suppose I do. Do you like it here?"

"Yes," he smiled, the dim lights hitting his teeth perfectly to make them glisten, "I have a good deal of fun here. Though I do have some disputes with—"

"Mr. Bomer, my good man," James smiled, coming over to shake Donovan's hand. "I see you have met Miss Harmon."

"Why yes, we were just beginning to discuss our liking to this hotel. Not that we could say anything bad in front of the owner," Donovan laughed.

"Well I should hope not, though I do appreciate constructive criticism at times," James smiled. The three engaged in small talk for a short while before Violet excused herself to the ladies' room.

She looked in the mirror and let out a deep breath. Violet simply could not believe that she had done all of this in only a day. She had left her parents, and suddenly, there was a birthday party being thrown in her honor by the owner of the hotel she was now living in. The whole situation was absolutely mental.

Reaching down towards the golden sink, Violet let her hands become damp before placing them on her neck, cooling herself down. She reached to the left to grab a towel that was rolled neatly for her, when she looked up into the mirror and found that she wasn't alone.

Shocked but unflinching, amazed by the woman whose reflection she was staring at. Bleach blonde hair, gorgeous porcelain skin, and a sparkly black dress that plunged straight down to her belly button were not the first things Violet noticed. The first thing she noticed was the woman's eyes, which held some emotion that Violet couldn't name. It wasn't a good emotion, that's all she knew.

The woman gave a bright smile, "Happy Birthday. I'm sorry that I did not get to meet you earlier."

Violet turned towards the woman and smiled. She was quite weary of the blonde, but for a reason she couldn't place. "Thank you, this is all so overwhelming."

"Ah, yes. James does like to make a big deal of everything."

"Do you know him well?"

"Once I knew him. I don't see him so often anymore. We aren't exactly the most compatible pair."

Violet's eyebrows knitted together, "Is there something wrong with him?"

Stepping closer to the young girl, the woman said, "My dear, one day you will grow and learn that there is something wrong with everybody." The woman turned quickly, her dress billowing around her feet.

Grabbing the counter, Violet stopped to reflect on the bizarre exchange. She never did find out who the woman was.

"That is the Countess," said a voice from the corner of the bathroom, causing Violet to be caught off guard once again. The birthday girl turned to the voice that answered her silent question, and found a redheaded woman in an old fashioned maid's outfit, scrubbing the floor of the bathroom.

"Hello, Miss Evers," Violet said, recognizing the woman from before. "Who is the Countess?"

"It is not my place to say," the maid answered.

"How long have you worked here?"

"Long enough," Miss Evers responded. "Dear, why don't you head back to the party? Mr. March is probably expecting you."

Nodding, Violet stepped back to the party, despite the fact that she had more questions about the Countess. As soon as she stepped out the door, she saw James, who was headed straight towards her with a happy expression on his face. He handed her a green drink and said, "Happy Birthday, my dear," and dropped back a glass.

Violet looked down, not sure if she should ask, before quietly saying, "Who is the Countess?"

James's face froze, his mouth fixed permanently in a scowl. "Why do you ask?"

"I met her."

The 18 year old watched as his face grew visibly angrier. "When?"

"In the bathroom."

"She was not invited here."

"Why no—"

"She knows her place, and she knows it is not here," James answered, his scowl worrying Violet slightly, causing her to wonder why this woman was a problem.

But then, as sneakily as she had done it before, the Countess creeped up behind James, a small smirk on her face as she traced a gloved hand over James's shoulders. "Why is it a problem for me to be here, James? I heard that every resident was invited today."

"You know why you were not. You know our arrangement."

"Ah, yes. Well I should be getting back to my new husband anyways," she said, glaring directly into James's eyes. She turned to Violet and said, "Happy Birthday. Enjoy it before you realize who you are spending it with," and then gave a grand exit.

' _Who_ am _I spending it with?_ ' Violet thought.


	5. Chapter 5: Surveying the Staff

_I just want to thank everyone for the support I have gotten on this story! Thank you so so so much for all of your kind words, please continue to tell me what you think!_

 _Please enjoy, there's more Liz in this chapter, for all of you that love her._

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Surveying the Staff**

"Thank you for throwing me that party, it was really unnecessary," Violet said as James walked her out of the room.

"It was completely necessary!" he insisted. "A woman's eighteenth birthday is among the most important days of her life. I could not let that go un-celebrated." The pair walked down the hallway towards her own room, when James hung a sharp left, pulling her with him. Violet was confused where they were going, but didn't let it show. She didn't want him to know that she was weary about traveling through his hotel with him (he probably knew anyways, so showing him he was right would only inflate his ego), and honestly, she was curious. The hotel was dark. She wanted to figure out why.

As they stepped down the carpeted hall, she couldn't help but notice as the end seemed to stretch further away, and how the red carpet spilled towards the walls, the pattern moving back and forth, as if the ground was like some liquid, a brilliant blood-colored liquid. Violet gave herself a shake and focused on what was important: the mysterious place James was taking her.

They came up on an elevator, which surprised Violet because she had assumed that the only elevator was the golden one in the center of the hotel. As if reading her mind, or at least her questioning face, James answered, "This lift is not accessible to the general public."

Not even daring to ask why, Violet stared straight ahead, paying close attention to the feeling of James's arm on her own, and the creaky sound of the elevator carrying them up. She could almost feel his eyes on her, they were warm on her porcelain neck. Her eyes fluttered over to look at his hands, which were large and strong. There was a cut trailing down one of his hands, and it disappeared under his pinstriped suit. She wondered where someone like him, a businessman, could get a cut like that. It was certainly no papercut.

The elevator stopped, pulling Violet out of her daze. The doors opened to an extravagant floor, decorated with red and gold. James stepped out of the elevator, tugging slightly on Violet, whose feet were frozen in their spot.

Not wanting to let him know she was taken off guard, she followed him out, letting him pull her to the large window that let her overlook the city. The pair sat on a comfortable bench in silence. Violet turned slightly, looking at her companion out of the corner of her eye. She watched his own eyes, which were near black in color, but filled with some type of melancholy.

"This city has changed since I originally moved here."

"Everything changes," Violet answered.

"Yes, but seemingly so quickly. It is beautiful to see people evolve, but it is upsetting at times. Had you been here before, I think you would quite like it," James told her, his eyes locked on the cars that travelled the streets below.

"What has changed that you enjoy?"

Violet watched as the corners of James's mouth turned up slightly as he answered, "The people. They are very different."

"How do you mean?"

The owner of the grand hotel lifted his gaze from the streets to the beautiful woman sitting next to him, the lights from the city causing her skin to glow softly. "What they deem respectable has changed. It is refreshing."

After another moment of silence, Violet quietly ventured, "How do you know the Countess?"

His black eyes growing darker at the mention of the blonde woman's name, James gruffly answered, "She has been a resident here for quite a long time."

"She's very pretty."

"Oh quite beautiful, yes," James mused, "Though I fear that vanity is often a cover for a deeper evil."

"Ah," Violet said, not really sure what else to say. She turned to face the city below and thought about her parents, who were probably out there fighting about whose fault it was that she left. She felt only slightly bad about that, now maybe her mom would finally leave her dad. Not that it mattered to her anymore, as they were not her family.

"You seem awfully quiet, my dear," James said. "Do you mind me questioning what is happening in that appallingly bright mind of yours?"

Not even thinking before she asked, Violet's head jerked towards him as she said, "Do you have a family?"

Taken aback, James thought for a moment before cautiously answering, "I have not had a family for a long while."

"Does it ever bother you?"

"Not particularly."

"Do you get lonely?"

James shifted, inching slightly closer to Violet. "I suppose at times, but I do try to keep busy with hobbies."

"Like what?"

A small laugh came from the older man, a smirk plastered to his face, "I had wondered why you had stopped being so inquisitive for a small time there, now I question whether I should take back my wish." He hopped to his feet, pulling Violet's hands so she came up with him. "If you so wish, you may join me in my hobbies at a later date. But for now, I do believe it is time to turn in."

Violet nodded and headed towards the elevator. James stood still, his hands knitting behind his back. Taking note that James would not be travelling back with her (and casually thanking the heavens for some alone time), Violet hit the golden button on the wall of the elevator, watching as the doors closed on her new friend as he turned towards the corner of the room swiftly, as if someone was there.

Not letting it sit on her mind, Violet exited the elevator and tried to find her way back to her own room. Somehow, she found the bar again, where Liz was sitting with her heels propped up, martini in hand. Her head turned, and noticing the girl there, she sat up straight, nodding her head in a gesture to invite Violet over to her.

"How was your party?" Liz asked, placing a fresh martini on the bar for the girl.

Sitting down, Violet answered, "Confusing."

"Oh yeah? Why is that?"

"There were some weird people there."

"There are some weird people all around us, honey. That's an important thing to remember if you're gonna be living here."

"I know, it's just bizarre to actually meet people weirder than you are used to. I used to think that I was weird. To be surrounded by other weird people, it's kinda nice. It's like we're all one big freakshow. I'm not the only one. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Liz smiled widely, "Perfectly. I think that's why I'm so at home here, too. I was accepted here where I wasn't at home, and now this has become my home. This is my family."

"Interesting way of looking at it," Violet said, staring off into her drink.

"What about you, darling? Your family was too much to handle?"

"They didn't like each other. Hell, they didn't like me. I did them a right favor by leaving."

"I can drink to that. I had a wife once, and a son. But I couldn't be a good dad or husband, knowing who I really am."

"I think you still can be," Violet disagreed. "Just because you're a woman doesn't mean you can't be good to your kids."

"Well, I think it's too late now. My son's all grown up."

"I really don't think it's ever too late."

"Says the girl that just left her family," Liz said, a quizzical eyebrow nudging Violet on.

The birthday girl shrugged, "You left too. Doesn't mean you can't go back. I can go back, but I think it's best for them if they work everything out without me there. Just like I'm sure your wife and son did when you left. It's just how life works. The key is getting back when they're ready. And when you're ready."

A brilliant smile lit up Liz's face. "I can see why he likes you."

"Who?"

"Oh don't 'who' me," Liz grinned, shaking another martini for herself. "You and I both know that in the day that you have been here, Mr. March has already taken to you."

"Yeah, you said that earlier, but I don't see it. I think he's just being kind."

Liz laughed, "He isn't just kind to people, Violet. That's not what he's like."

Getting really quiet, Violet wondered aloud, "What is he like, then?"

Giving a skeptical look as she answered, Liz said, "He's just a very interesting person. Really, I can't be the person to tell you what he's like. You have to find out on your own."

Pouting slightly, Violet brought up another question, "Who is the Countess?"

Liz's body froze, and she turned towards the new resident. "Oh, sweetheart. You have quite the adventure ahead of you."


End file.
